


everything you think you know

by djhedy



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But he's there - Freeform, Hands, Kissing, Knowing but not Doing, M/M, Mixing Bowl, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Wooden spoons, Yum, andrew being a little shit, because andrew is a little shit, hooboy is he there, hopefully matt got some cake, neil in spirit only, such as, written off prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy
Summary: Matt watched Andrew out of the corner of his eye. He was moving around the small kitchen, purposeful, but slow, like he had all the time in the world. Like he didn’t know Matt felt like he was going to explode at any second.Andrew pulled out a mixing bowl, and Matt said, “What are ya making?” Andrew’s hand stilled, and Matt quickly shut up and looked away before he heard the bowl hit the counter.He thrummed his fingers on the counter top, closed his eyes, and said, “Look. What. What do you want me to say?”
Relationships: Matt Boyd/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 15
Kudos: 114





	everything you think you know

**Author's Note:**

> did i proofread this? no. am i drinking wine? yes.

Matt watched Andrew out of the corner of his eye. He was moving around the small kitchen, purposeful, but slow, like he had all the time in the world. Like he didn’t know Matt felt like he was going to explode at any second.

Andrew pulled out a mixing bowl, and Matt said, “What are ya making?” Andrew’s hand stilled, and Matt quickly shut up and looked away before he heard the bowl hit the counter.

He thrummed his fingers on the counter top, closed his eyes, and said, “Look. What. What do you want me to say?”

When he opened his eyes, Andrew was looking at him. That same dull, bored expression he always wore that Matt could never make any sense of. He could be seconds away from dead and he’d never see it coming. Andrew looked him straight in the eyes, then at his hair, then away.

Matt ran a hand through his hair nervously.

Andrew had pulled him out his bed this morning one-handed: one hand on his arm and Matt toppled out of bed, startled, barely hearing the orders for Nicky and Aaron to head out, eyes on Matt a little alarmed, but not very willing to stick around to help. _Great_.

Matt just missed Neil. That was all.

He missed their movie nights, missed talking about nothing, missed nerding out over coffee, teaching Neil to play video games he was terrible at.

The way his hair fluffed up when he woke up; the way his eyes blinked, unfocused, before fully waking; the way he’d walk slightly lopsided out of the bedroom in the mornings.

Matt just: missed him.

That’s all he had meant to do. Tell him that.

But.

Neil had looked at him.

This wasn’t helpful.

Andrew was mixing ingredients, pounding flour with a wooden spoon. He hadn’t spoken in twenty minutes.

Matt didn’t know what Andrew knew, and that was his first step.

“I take it Neil said something?”  
“Hmm?” Andrew hummed as if he hadn’t heard, as if Matt wasn’t regularly teased for his naturally loud voice.

“I know he talked to you. What do you want me to say?”

Andrew added cocoa to his bowl, stirred.

Didn’t say anything.

Matt sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew pointed a cocoay spoon at him, whirled it around in a little half-circle, and went back to his mixing, all without looking at him.

Matt frowned. “I’m _sorry_. It was wrong. I’m an idiot. I didn’t mean to. Neil is yours, I know that.”

Andrew pointed the spoon back at him, but this time walked it a little to Matt’s left, hand scrabbling in the fridge for the butter at the same time.

Matt shifted on his stool, fingers clenched hard around the counter and said, “Are you really gonna make me do all the work?”

Andrew nodded, and smirked. Matt blinked, and it was gone. A mistake, then.

Matt said, “Ok. So, did I get something wrong?”

Andrew twirled the spoon round in a circle again.

Matt thought about it. “Neil isn’t yours.”

Andrew started nodding, then glared at the mixing bowl, and spun his wooden spoon round in a circle again.

This was really delaying cake baking, and Matt thought if he was really going to die, he’d like some before he went.

“Then. I’m still sorry. It _was_ wrong. I shouldn’t have just –” Matt thought about the words, tried to think of a graceful way to say this, added up the possibilities that Andrew didn’t know, that he was potentially just digging his own grave. He said it anyway. “Kissed him.”

Andrew withdrew his spoon, and started spooning the mixture into the cake pan.

Matt waited, heart in his throat, waited for the inevitable, wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t, he was a _man_ , a _backliner_ , and he would face the end like one.

Andrew looked at him then, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Go on.”

Matt’s eyes widened. Andrew looked away and found the oven gloves.

Andrew, previously assumed psychotic, who’d faced Riko Moriyama, who’d threatened to face all the Moriyamas, who fell in love with the little shit that was Neil Josten, found the oven gloves, put them on, and put the cake pan into the oven. He was looking at something on his phone when Matt found his voice again. “I should have asked.”

Andrew set the temperature, and the timer, and started putting ingredients away.

“I should have asked... Neil. I didn’t. That was really bad.”

“Yes,” snapped Andrew. Like he couldn’t help himself. Like _that_ was what he was angry about??

“And, you probably.”

Andrew glared at the counter, wiping a little cloth over spilled flour half-heartedly, and Matt watched as he gathered himself. He found his spoon and pointed it at Matt again.

“What?”

“What should you have asked.”

“I mean. Not permission, obviously. Neil isn’t yours, and – look it was a moment of weakness.”

“Weakness.”

“Yes.” Fuck it. Matt stood and came around the counter. Andrew turned and held his wooden spoon out, a sign to ward Matt off. “This is stupid,” said Matt, exhausted and feeling awful and guilty and just wanting to know what Andrew needed from him. “I was exhausted. I missed him. He’s – I have no excuse. I shouldn’t have done it. Ok?”

Andrew looked at him, backed a little into the counter behind him, and properly looked at him. It was a minute before he said anything, a minute when Matt’s heart beat erratically and he wondered if he’d be able to hold down that cake, if he’d get any at all.

Andrew said, “What should you have asked me.”

Matt frowned. “ _What_?”

Andrew tilted his head a little and it was – Matt hated when he did that. It made him look – the word entered his brain and he chased it away, ridiculous. Andrew was the _opposite_ of – of – _cute_.

Matt looked at him, appalled. “Stop that.”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth pulled into a small grin.

The smallest, like a gift, like something just for Matt, and Matt couldn’t look away from it.

Andrew said, “Or maybe the question is, is it only redheads?”

Matt hummed, and then looked up, startled, to see Andrew _really_ looking at him. His eyes all – and setting the wooden spoon down and –

“N-no,” Matt said, thoroughly lost.

“Neil had some interesting thoughts to share with me.” Matt gulped. “He’s a rambler. You know. You’ve lived with him.”

Matt privately thought Neil was the quietest person he’d ever met, but he nodded anyway.

“He is –” Andrew whirled one hand in the air, looking for the words, not looking away from Matt. “New. To all this. Thinks it makes him interesting, gives him a unique perspective. It does not.” Andrew gave Matt a very obvious look up and down. Matt’s stomach clenched with, with, something. Andrew said, eyes burning into his, “It is not news to anyone that you are – interesting.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Interesting?” he echoed.

Andrew nodded, and then waited, arms folded and hips braced against the counter behind him, like that was all he was going to say.

Matt frowned.

_Interesting._

Ok.

Was this a fucking riddle or something?

He said, “Is this a fucking riddle or something?”

Andrew smirked again and Matt looked away, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling warm, warm, like the memory of Neil and Andrew were intwined somehow, were _becoming_ intwined, and he didn’t know how to separate them.

He said, “You’re not going to kill me?”

Andrew said, “Where would be the fun in that?”

Matt looked back, and thought he was going crazy. “Um. What – what would be more fun?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

Matt stared at him, bemused. “Exactly _what_?”

And then Andrew pushed off the counter, and walked towards Matt slowly. Matt’s eyebrows raised, and he walked backwards until he stumbled onto a stool.

It put Andrew and Matt at the same height.

Andrew said, “Yes or no?” He flicked a look at Matt’s lips. “To a kiss.”

Matt turned his head a little, sure he’d misheard.

And then Andrew tilted his head again, and Matt stared at him, all smooth skin and perfect hair, and he said, “Unless – not mouthy enough for you?”

“Oh,” said Matt, startled, hungry, confused, desperate, _yes_ , like he couldn’t deny that, _yes_ , he hadn’t wondered, _yes_ , Andrew’s eyes and his hair and his arms and, _yes_ , and how much he loved Neil, and his family, and, _yes_. Matt said, “Yes.”

Andrew smirked, and pushed his hands up Matt’s knees, and thighs, parting them, and slotting inbetween, enough to feel _warm_ , distant enough that Matt felt safe, like he wouldn’t quite die from this, and Andrew squeezed his arms, and pressed his smirk against Matt’s mouth, and said, “Hands to yourself.”

And Matt pushed his fingers together behind his back, and whispered, “Ok,” and was _kissed_

_by_

_andrew_

_minyard_

Matt was kissed, and then Andrew pinched his thigh, and he started kissing back.

Andrew’s hands were – on his thighs, warm, and steady, and so close to – so close.

Matt opened his lips and Andrew was there.

And he tasted – fucking amazing.

And Matt could think about Neil, and that was ok too.

But Andrew was crowding his thoughts, and Matt grinned a little, breathless and heady with desire, and Andrew pinched him again and said, “Shh.”

“Can’t a guy be a little dazed?” murmured Matt, getting kissed again.

When he was next allowed breath he said, “I mean, I woke up thinking I was gonna die, and now you’re kissing me. It’s sort of the greatest day of my life.”

Andrew pulled away at that, and glared at him. “This is worse than I thought it would be.”

Matt frowned, stomach dropping, but then Andrew just said, “Less talking,” and licked back into Matt’s mouth, pleasant, heavy, wet.

And Matt didn’t smile anymore. Couldn’t, with Andrew’s body pressed against him. Didn’t want to, didn’t want to risk this ending, didn’t want to wake up.

Andrew pulled away a little, and panted into Matt’s mouth, and said, “Ok.”

Matt grinned against him, moving forward to kiss him lazily against the corner of his mouth. “Just ok?”

The oven timer beeped, and Andrew pulled away, looking once at Matt’s lips, once at his eyes, once ran fingers over his cheeks, forehead, through his hair, pulled him back in for another kiss as the oven beeped, and beeped, and –

“Ok,” said Andrew. “Neil is going to be insufferable.”


End file.
